Family Portrait
by Melanie Grey
Summary: On the Batchelder's estate everything is not as it seems. The town's model family harbors a secret they will allow no one to know. Max and her foster siblings are now trapped by the walls and secrets that have been built around them. AU.
1. Prolouge

**Title**: Family Portrait

**Summary**: The Batchelder's are the town's model family. They are generous benefactors of the town's schools, the church, and police department, with one son and six foster children. But no one knows the secrets kept inside their large estate. Max and her foster siblings are trapped living with the abusive Batchelder's who have taken their childhoods and innocence. If that isn't hard enough let's not forget their son who believes he has a 'claim' to Max and the desperate attempts to keep her family together. Will the secrets the Batchelder's hide ever come out? Idea is based off of the movie _Family Sins_ and Family Portrait by PINK.

***Warning: The nature of this story is a Mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!***

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

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Prologue

Max's Point Of View

My name is Maxine Ride but do not, I mean _do not_ tell Mama that. To Mama I'm Marcella Batchelder her eldest 'daughter'. I am fifteen years old and I live a lie. Marcella, Alex, Ian, Monique, Grant, and Angelina Batchelder, the perfect foster children the Batchelder's have taken in, that's us. But that isn't who we really are because nothing is ever as it seems. The Batchelders are the town's model family. Rich, caring, and humble, the perfect family in anyone's eyes are the Batchelders. Life here though is not perfect, maybe at one time but not anymore and never again.

If there is one thing Mama has taught me it is that appearances need to be kept. So we are perfect, outside these walls at least. I am the unbreakable Marcella, on the outside, but truly I'm just a broken little girl wanting to keep the family I once knew around. I stay strong for the children, always to keep them safe. No one sees through the impenetrable façade though except Alexander, my rock. He is always right there when my ice cold composure beings to thaw. Though I'll talk more about him later right now I should get back to the nightmare that is the Batchelder family and their Estate.

Monique, Angelina, and I are 'home schooled' as Val says. If you wondering who Val is, she is Mama and Jeb, her husband, is Dad. What the 'home schooling' Mama has us do is chores. Keeping the house in order while she and Dad are at 'work', and if our chores are not completed we don't get dinner that night and sometimes if Mama is in a bad mood over something or another, punishments.

Punishments vary depending on Mama's exact mood. I always make sure Monique's and Ange's chores are completed and to Mama's standards. I can handle not eating and a few slaps or the crack of an electrical wire once and a while as long as they are safe. I don't think I would be able to live with myself if either of them were harmed. Alex and Ian do the same for Grant, but they also have a better education. Mama told us it is more valuable for them to be taught then us girls. Alex teaches me everything he learns though. He's always caring for me.

Well I'm getting off track again. Let's get back to the Batchelder Family. As I said I'm fifteen years old, according to Mama, Alex is sixteen as well as Ian. We are the oldest foster children and tend to be very, _very_ protective of the younger three in our family. Monique just turned fourteen. Grant is eight and adorable just like his biological sister Angelina. She is at the tender age of six and everyone's favorite even Mama's.

Mama treats Angelina better then the other five of us foster children. She gives Ange the least amount of work. Ange is probably the only one Mama thinks of when delegating chores or meals. I always had keen senses, I noticed the slightly larger portions of food she would slip Angelina. The care, the love Mama has for Ange is different then anything I've seen her deal out to the rest of us. She loves us all in a way, a dementedly sick way albeit, but it's all we've ever really known.

Aaron though has all of Mama's real love, well sort of. Speaking of Aaron he's seventeen years old and Mama and Dad's son, biologically. They love, love, _love_ him. Sometimes that hurts. It is really Mama's preference, she loves Aaron more then any one in the world- maybe it has to do with the fact that he really is hers. Mama does have a certain special place for Ange though. And I have this weird feeling that it is not just because she's the youngest.

You've probably guessed it now that Mama is the Ringleader of this whole . . . well, for lack of better words, circus. Mama does real-estate. She even owns a few houses she rents out. That's how we have a lot of our money. Not from the rent like you're thinking though. When someone isn't paying she sends Aaron out or even Alex and Ian to set the house on fire so they can collect on the insurance money. It always ends up looking like an accident though. I don't exactly know all the details of the process though. Alex says he doesn't want me to know about it.

The money also comes from Dad's job. He is a scientist. I don't know for sure what he does in his lab. I remember him telling me it has something to do with testing DNA, combining it, and experimenting with it. It sounds sort of cool, in a way, but I wonder who, or what for that matter, they experiment on exactly.

Creepy isn't it? To think about a human being used as a test subject and kept like a lab rat in cages. I shudder at the thought of it actually. I have always felt a little claustrophobic and being in a cage would probably freak me out. The world is just a scary place I guess. I won't ever really know though being trapped here. One of my dreams is to run away from this place one day. Get us all out. It would be amazing to be free from rules and being able to sit up in a tree and breathe in nature. My heart would fill with joy.

One big place in my heart is for Alex. He is my hero. True it is cliché as a cliché can be and sound, it is so very true. Alex is everything to me, he is my very best friend and I love him. Sometimes I think I love him so much that it hurts. Maybe in a good way though, if there is such a thing as a good ache or pain. Through all that we done and all we have endured, we can always look back and smile because of each other. That is the one very positive thing about living here and suffering is that I will always have him there with me along the way. Like I said before, Alex is my rock. He has sacrificed so much for me, taken beatings, given me some of his dinner when I couldn't eat.

You see we share a room. Mama's logic is strange sometimes. She seems to have paired us off almost. Alex and I, Ian and Monique, Grant and Angelina (though they are siblings) each of us shares the room with the other. We have a sheet separating our sides of the room, but I never can feel uncomfortable around him. None of us can feel that way around each other. Not when you were eight and accidentally wet the bed and Mama has you stand out naked and clean the sheets while everyone watches.

Enough about Mama and her punishments and this whack job estate, this is about Alex. At night I will usually climb into Alex's bed and he holds me as we sleep. When he is there with me everything is fine, no nightmares, no pain and no one else in the world matters. I can tell him anything my hopes and dreams and he will listen and dream right along with me. No one else knows though, no one else ever will. Only Alex and I, though I have a suspicion that Monique and Ian know something is going on with us, just as I think something is going on with them. Who knows maybe it is just that we can all use one person to depend on specifically. We are all closely knit though. We have to stay strong together against it all. It is one of the only ways to make sure no one ends up hurt or alone. At least for now.

The Batchelder's weren't always like this though. They used to be very good people. Truly nice and caring people, a while back, but I still remember a lot of it. I was a little older then Angel then, no more then a few months older though. I loved Mama and Dad they had given me a loving home. I still do love them in a way, but in a remorseful way you could say. Aaron was my playmate. Back then we had a nice maid too, her name was Lucy. Lucy slept in the basement and would always bake me chocolate chip cookies that made me smile. She was a little slow, but she was still very smart and very pretty, too pretty actually.

Dad couldn't resist the temptation of a pretty woman locked in the basement at night, who could very easily fall for anything he said though. For this I will always hold certain specific hatred towards Dad. He slept with Lucy, many, many, many times before Mama even found out, and when she did, Mama was not happy. Something inside her started to take control. This psychologically crazed need or something. I never will exactly know. I don't know what happened to Lucy when Mama found out, but I remember hiding when I heard her screams from down below.

This was before anyone else lived with us. Mama became bitter and resentful towards Dad. Tighter and tighter strung around me. She loves Dad so much still, and can't hold anything towards him, not for very long at least. Me, though being in no way related to her, she could blame without feeling guilt.

One night she came into my room and asked me why I made Dad do things with Lucy and I told her that I didn't do anything or I didn't mean to at least. God I was only six what did I know about love or sex or anything really? Mama was not happy with my answers. She kept looking for excuses to be angry with me as the weeks went on. Until one night, she found a reason to take her anger out on me. During dinner I accidentally spilled my glass of milk and it poured onto her lap.

That was the first time she hit me. Mama slapped me across the face, hard with a burning fury in her eyes. I immediately started to sob and she hit me again. Mama told me if I didn't stop she'd send me into the basement and Daddy would punish me. I couldn't stop though it hurt, physically, emotionally, in every way. I told her I was sorry and that I loved her and I wouldn't do it again. It was useless in the end.

Mama had fully snapped that night and she wasn't going to turn back. My first punishment was that night too. When she sent me downstairs she didn't even take a second look. I still have a few marks from that night. Small marks but the biggest one was emotionally and that has healed quite a bit over time.

Most marks are from when I really screwed up, like when I was thirteen and stood up for myself, or at least attempted to that was one of the worst, and I haven't done it since and never think I will again. Alex stayed up with me that night taking care of the wounds and making me feel better. I know it may be sad but all I want is to go back to that happy family before Dad cheated, to be that little hopeful and happy girl again.

God it would be so nice to live in that fantasy, that dream. Dreams don't always come true though. I bet Snow White and Cinderella are probably rolling in there graves right about now. It was so simple for Cinderella's dreams to come true though. She had little mouse friends and a fairy godmother. Really aren't so alone there are you princess? Whatever though, rats are disgusting, with there beady little eyes and long overgrown tails.

Though I wonder how exactly they would taste probably better then nothing right? I could see people freaking out in restaurants seeing something like 'Desert Rat served with a side of our original Cactus Juice' on the menu. That would be hilarious. Only in my dreams I guess. I wonder if some dreams really can come true. Though I know in my case, those dreams would most likely be turned into painful nightmares. Congratulations, by the way, you just entered mine.

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**Author's Note**: Thank you for taking the time to read this story I have been working on for a while now. I truely appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed what I have written so far. I will try to update once every week or at least once every other week. I like to put a lot of effort into my writting and editing. Thanks again. -Mel


	2. Chapter 1

**Title**: Family Portrait

**Summary**: The Batchelder's are the town's model family. They are generous benefactors of the town's schools, the church, and police department, with one son and six foster children. But no one knows the secrets kept inside their large estate. Max and her foster siblings are trapped living with the abusive Batchelder's who have taken their childhoods and innocence. If that isn't hard enough let's not forget their son who believes he has a 'claim' to Max and the desperate attempts to keep her family together. Will the secrets the Batchelder's hide ever come out? Idea is based off of the movie _Family Sins_ and Family Portrait by PINK.

***Warning**: The nature of this story is a Mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!*

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

Chapter One

Marcella's Point Of View

Mama has this picture in her head that everything around her, in this hell hole, is perfect. It's a little world of her own twisted perfection. In a way she is like a child, a spoiled child, she wants everything in her perfect world to stay exactly the way she wants it, and it will be because what other choice do we have?

She is not just a child though she is dictator because of her visions of perverse grandeur. She has all the power because, frankly, if she wanted us eliminated, she could and would do it with out a second thought. It was best to just comply with her needs and wants. Mama wants to flaunt her so called perfect life, and has been longing for the chance for the past month.

Tonight is the night that Mama will get what she's been wanting, a party. This particular party Mama had decided to have was a fundraiser for the town's church. You see the town we live in is not very big, just a small community really and almost everyone here was exactly the same. When I say everyone was the same I mean they all have money, the children are home-schooled (well the actual kind of home-schooling), and the families are all 'devoted' Christians, well at least a few actually were. But not us.

This party/fundraiser is good news and bad news for me and the kids. The good news is that we get to feel normal in a way. We get to get ready for a party just like any other child. The bad news is we have to be Mama's perfect children, put on the masks of a happy functional family, easier said then done at times.

This party/fundraiser would be formal of course, nothing but the finest for Mama and her 'friends'. No parties the Batchelder's held had ever been casual or at least none that I could recall. Every party required some type of dress weather it be formal, semi-formal, or business. The only time casual was used was when no one was around the estate and at certain fundraisers and community services. Mama knew you couldn't very well wear a designer dress or a business suit to a yard sale.

Was it sad that I always got excited for these parties? That I would love to take a warm shower and run Lucy's gold antique brush softly through the blonde waves of my hair? That I longed to act like a mother in a sense and help my 'children' get ready for something where they would enjoy- maybe if not shown but deep down -themselves at?

We already had outfits ready. Mama did love to dress us up, just not herself because that was my job. That was what I was good for. Tying ties and ribbons, lacing shoes, brushing hair, braiding braids, gelling spikes, buttoning buttons, zipping zippers, all to ensuring that each and every one of us would look perfect in Mama's eyes.

I was sitting on my bed just me in the room. Mama had the boys lifting some boxes or moving tables, something of that manner, in preparation for tonight. It was early in the afternoon I'd like to say a little after two o'clock at most. On days like these, where most of the day is spend preparing for the few hours of a party, I had little to do until around four. We had people come in to do most of the work which allowed me most of the day off.

So with nothing to do but wait till I had to start helping the children get ready, I sat staring at the back of the door. Hanging off a small hook in the door was my dress. As much as I would hate to admit it, I loved the dress. It was a dark evergreen colored floor length gown. The straps were off the shoulder and the waistline was embroidered with black jewels. It was simply stunning. The dress was not over zealous, it is simple yet it has an elegant air to it. I would absolutely dread the day Mama sent it back. We never did get to keep them.

I sighed continuing to stare at it. But not for long as the door soon swung open to reveal Alex. I smiled, but he didn't smile his usual half-smile, the one he saved just for me, back. My smile faded away as I took in his somber face. Was something wrong? Was someone getting hurt?

"What-" I had barely gotten a word out before he cut me off.

"Mama wants to see you." It was short, clipped, and to the point. Like most of his sentences. "She's in her room."

I got up from my bed and walked to the door. I though for a second this could go either way good or bad. But on rare occasions it could mean nothing at all. As I passed through the door way Alex caught my shoulder turning me around. I came face to face with him or well as face to face as you could be with one persons face half hidden by his soft locks of almost raven colored hair.

"Be careful." His tone held warning. "She seemed way too calm."

I could only nod in response before walking off. This didn't happen very often. Was it a set up? Could I have done something wrong already? I thought breakfast had gone well and to her liking this morning. Did one of the children say something to upset her? I can't imagine they would do that.

As I got closer and closer to where Mama was anxiety continued to build up. What was going on? What did I do? Is someone going to get hurt? No one can get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt. I couldn't allow anyone to be hurt. It would hurt too much, all too much.

I was now standing in front of her door, just staring at it for a good few moments. I was hesitant to go in. I was almost always hesitant when it came to Mama. I knew I had to take the plunge though to knock on the door. It was better to get it all over with sooner, and Mama liked us to be prompt, to not dilly dally, or loiter around. With a deep breathe I knocked on the door.

The sound seemed to echo around me in extravagantly ornamented hallway. The top half of the walls were a creamy off-white color, while the bottom half separated by a fine molding was an expensive looking patterned wallpaper. The floors were a dark glossy oak covered with an impeccably clean carpet that matched the walls. Pictures hung on some spaces of the walls. Most of the wall ornaments near Mama's room were of art of someplace or another.

It was in that instant of which I was admiring the all too clean carpet that Mama opened the door to her lair. No it was not the typical Hollywood villain's evil lair. It was not an underground fortress in a dark cave nor was it in the style of an abandoned warehouse or old factory. No Mama's little lair of love was a typical couple's bedroom. It held a large king sized bed right in the middle, surrounded by a loveseat on one wall a desk on the other, a walk in closet on the left, a bathroom big enough to play catch in on the right, and a television set directly across that was typically hidden by a picture during the day.

It was actually homey. The walls were a warm and inviting caramel that made you feel almost safe. It may not have been the typical evil hideaway but it was definitely as intimidating as one. It was pure wickedness for someplace that could be a place for tragedy to look so nice and happy even. But this was what our whole house tended to look like. Warm, serine, inviting, comfortable, and it was all lies.

I stepped into the deceiving room only to see Mama sitting at her desk. All business today I see. Her back was to me so I couldn't exactly assess what kind of mood Mama was in. I couldn't tell what she wanted from me. I couldn't tell if she was going to harm me. And that scared me the most.

She soon turned around and went over to sit on the loveseat. I was standing by the door as I had been for the past few minutes. Making me wait was pure torture, it was all part of her tactic. Mama smiled at me brilliantly though. The brightness of it was almost blinding.

"Marcie, sweetie, come and sit with Mama." Her smile only seemed to widen as she patted the empty cushion next to her with one hand. The other had been occupied holding a folder. I stood there afraid to move. Afraid to be close with her. "Baby, Mama only wants to spend a little Mommy Daughter time with you."

I couldn't defy her, only comply with her wants. Even if I knew her wickedness I still held this morsel, this speck, of love for her. I smiled a small, tiny, barely there smile, and walked over to the loveseat and sat down with her.

She set the folder down on the armrest and reached over and started to pet my hair. "That's my good, sweet little girl." Mama pushed my head down into her lap, making my legs curl up onto the couch as she continued to stroke my hair in a way that seemed to be affectionate. Mama was like this sometimes. This caring, sweet, lovable mother, but she could turn on a dime, into this evil, inhumane, person I didn't even know.

This Mama, the one that was stroking my hair and all around baby me, was the Mama I remember as a young child. She was the first Mama I had ever known or loved. The one I would love to be affectionate with. She seemed to remember this too.

"Don't you remember, Marcie? I would be watching TV or just sitting and you would come over and curl up in my lap and I would stroke your hair all night long. You'd talk and talk until you would fall asleep and then I'd carry you to bed." Mama said. And I did remember.

She picked up the folder again making her momentarily pausing in stroking my hair. She took something out I couldn't see. I couldn't look up at her I only stared across the room at the desk and the plastic plant and waste bin next to it.

"Look at you Marcella, my first baby girl. You were so cute, with your tiny little fingers and bouncy loose curls, your brown eyes that made me think of melted chocolate." She held a picture of me as a baby in front of my face. I had been here for as long as I could remember. The picture soon disappeared from my view and her hands were back at caressing my hair. "The moment I saw you I knew you'd be all mine forever more."

"You'll always be my little girl won't you Marcie?" Her voice was soft and sweet as she spoke so much so that I closed my eyes feeling as if I was six years old again. "You'll always be my little girl no matter what anyone says won't you? You won't let anyone tell you otherwise will you Marcie?" Her still had the sugary tone but I thought I heard hidden notes of malice, desperation, and possession. My eyes remained closed though.

"No matter what anyone claims you'll always tell them I'm your Mama won't you? You won't believe anything they say will you?" The undertones I had heard before became more prominent.

"You won't let anyone take you from me will you Marcie?" She yanked my hair forcing me to look up at her face. She had a strong grip. I was breathless as I looked at her. "Will you?" I saw the distress on her face, the anger, as she pulled on my blonde tresses again, harder. She had turned on the dime again.

"No Mama, never Mama, never!" I said desperate to be out of her rigid grip. I wanted my caring Mama again, anything to get her back. "I will never let anyone tell me you're not my Mama. I won't let anyone take me away form you."

I guess it must have worked, my look sincere enough because her grip instantly loosened and she let my head turn and face the desk again. Her hands returned to their ministrations again. My eyes closed again, but this time more in relief of being freed from Mama's grip on more then just the physical.

"Good girl, Marcie, always my good girl." Mama said after we sat there for who knows how long. "Mama loves her good girl." She had stopped stroking my hair and motioned for me to sit up.

My feet tingled as they touched the warm carpet covering the floor for the first time in about two hours. I straightened out my shirt that had become rumpled from lying down for so long. Stayed still and breathed for just a second letting the slight fuzziness melt away. I turned to look at Mama, not in the eyes though, almost never in the eyes. Even so I knew, she seemed to be content, almost at ease.

"Good girls get rewards, remember?" She asked me as if I didn't know what had been grinded into my mind for nearly seven years. I simply nodded as I was never much for words with Mama anymore.

"If everything goes without a hitch tonight, I will let you know what your father has been keeping in the basement. Your Mama knows you'll like it, so be my perfect little girl that I know you are. Maybe I will even throw in some cookies for good measure, Mama knows you love your cookies." Sometimes it seemed as if she was talking to a six year old, maybe sometimes she believed I still was.

"Now go get everyone ready Marcie. We can't be unprepared for our own party now can we?" It was with this that I was happily dismissed.

As I turned back to look at Mama one last time before I left I saw her eyes harden as she saw I had not yet left. Anger as though her recent thoughts had renewed an old ache of pain. "Didn't I tell you to go? I am sure you wouldn't want me to take out Daddy's favorite belt." The threat was registered.

And off I did go, back down the lavish hallways to my own small room, all the while thinking about my still raw back.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title**: Family Portrait

**Summary**: The Batchelder's are the town's model family. They are generous benefactors of the town's schools, the church, and police department, with one son and six foster children. But no one knows the secrets kept inside their large estate. Max and her foster siblings are trapped living with the abusive Batchelder's who have taken their childhoods and innocence. If that isn't hard enough let's not forget their son who believes he has a 'claim' to Max and the desperate attempts to keep her family together. Will the secrets the Batchelder's hide ever come out? Idea is based off of the movie _Family Sins_ and Family Portrait by PINK.

***Warning**: The nature of this story is a Mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!*

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

Chapter Two

Max's Point of View

When I reached my room I was only slightly surprised to see all the children sitting in there. Angel sat on my bed with Monique and Grant, while across from them in Alex's bed sat Ian. Alex as lounging against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed and one leg propped against the wall. They all turned to look at me as I walked in but the first to approach me was Alex.

"Did she hurt you, Max?" His voice was gruff with concern as he looked me over from head to toe and back again. He then reached for my hands looking for any sign of marks on them.

I let out a giggle like breath. "No Alex, don't worry so much." I tried to reassure him with a timid smile.

"Then what did she, like, want to see you for then?" Monique piped up her question from my bed.

"Um. . . Well, sweetie, she just wanted to talk to me about tonight a bit nothing to really worry about." I didn't really want to tell her about what happened, only Alex. Mama never did this with any of then, any time she would baby them was with everyone else. I was different though, for some reason.

"Are you, like, sure? You were with her for, like, two hours." she asked, slightly unconvinced. Monique seriously needed to stop picking up on this stuff, I would never get away with anything anymore then.

"Of course I'm sure. Now Angel let's get you ready first." I said walking over to my bed and taking her small soft hand in my own. "Grant, you go in next, then Monique, then Ian, then Alex, then me okay?"

My only answer was a few short nods and Ange's tug on my hand pulling me into the bathroom with her.

Not too long later, it was just Alex and I left waiting. I was sitting on my bed once again, but this time I was reading instead of staring with hopeless longing at the dress. Mama allowed me certain privileges, such as going to the library and sometime on the computer once in a while. Of course if I got to go out I would have to be taken by Aaron or being watched by Mama herself, but I got to do these things none the less.

I think my situation here could be much worse if Mama really wanted it that way. I could be dirty, completely starving, in the dark locked in a room trapped by thick soundproof walls and a secret from the world if she so wanted it to be that way, which in itself is a scary thought. To think of being kept so inhumanly makes my skin crawl. My heartbeat picks up at such a rate I am sure I am going to go into cardiac arrest or something.

Alex notices this and picks up on it almost instantly. My hands tightened their grip on the book, but they are shaking. I can tell I must look petrified, like a puppy afraid of being kicked by its master. Maybe that's what I really am, just a helpless puppy waiting in my corner for the blow of its master callously to the gut.

He swiftly gets up silently and skilled. He comes up behind me and I feel hands engulf my waist and pry the poor book from my fingers. Then the familiar hands are placed on my shoulders and his voice is soft and warm in my ear. "Don't be afraid."

I fall back easily into his embrace. As I wrap my arms around myself and shut my eyes tightly. I feel better being here close to Alex, as if we were all alone in the world. Maybe be were all alone. It felt like it at times, that we were all alone. It was mostly at night, hidden in the dark and dank corners of our room.

"Hush," Was the clipped reply as he was quickly using his up his ration of words for the week. But his arms tightened their grip around me, bringing the comfort he couldn't seem to be able to put into words.

This bliss would not last long though. It could not last long, because this is my life we are talking about not a fairy tale. It was then that the short and sweet semblance of comfort was disturbed by a curt rapping on the door.

"Bathroom's all yours love birds!"

And along with the disturbed peace also came the annoying comments. It was nearly impossible for Ian to refrain from uttering such comments and though exasperating a trait it was, we adored him all the more for it. That is what happens when you live so close with the same people for so long. You could absolutely despise an annoying habit someone has but in the end it is just something you will come to love about them and even admire maybe.

"Go." Alex said. That was his annoying trait. He always put me before himself. The saying 'the only person you need to look out for is yourself' does not take hold in Alex's mind.

"Oh, don't give me that look." He huffed

"What look?" I said clueless as to what he was referring to.

"You know the look, the one that says 'don't put me first Alex'. That incredulous look of why you should go. You need to stop over thinking things. If someone is being nice to you or doing you a favor just take it once in a while. Besides you need a much longer time then I do, have you seen your hair lately?" He smirked.

"Now go." I stayed put for a moment. But then he shooed me some more.

"Max, what do I need to do carry you there? Go for Christ's sake." That put me into action. I smiled at him and got up and went to the bathroom.

When I got to the bathroom the mirror was covered by a thick layer of steam. It was only natural by now after four people had already used a good amount of boiling water to wash away their sins and troubles down the drain deep into, well wherever the heck that stuff goes.

My mood brightened a bit at the fogged up looking glass. I felt secure in away comforted by the fuzzy blob of my reflection I could barely make out. It was funny in a way, to see yourself distorted, and a little rough all over. It was a different way to look at the world. Through narrow eyes seeming only certain things.

That was the way most people saw the Batchelders. Maybe they are afraid to clear the comfort of the miasma from our souls, to clear up the hazy image and unveil the truth. It was a scary though, to find out all the putrid skeletons in someone else's closet and see the blasphemous secrets they had cultivated over time.

To think of that though was thinking in a dark manner I did not wish to think in at the moment. Tonight needed to go well I couldn't be thinking in a gloomy way, how could I perform at my best that way? I needed to know what was in the basement. It was a question burning in my mind since Mama had planted it there.

After getting a towel from the linen closet and setting the water to my liking I stepped into bliss. The water felt wondrous on my skin. It was like being caught in the warmest of sun showers on the most beautiful of a spring day. It was a slice of pure happiness.

I only took as much time as needed though but savored as much as I could. As soon as I was out I knew I had to help Monique with her dress, again, and Angel with her hair, remind Ian to close the fly trap, get myself ready, and button that one last annoying button on Grant's shirt. Yes I was a mother hen and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Max? Can you help me please? The back of my dress is stuck, um, again." Monique said from the other side of the door after knocking sheepishly. Well at least she used her manners.

"One second!" I called out, wrapping the, thankfully, clean towel around myself. I put my hair up into a wet and messy bun on top of my head and opened the door.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go back to my room."

It was then that my real work began. After getting myself settled in my undergarments and a robe, I set to work on getting Moe's zipper to work correctly. She somehow always managed to get the zipper stuck, I never knew how exactly, only that it took me about ten minutes every time to fix it again.

Her make-up came next. I always kept it nice and simple a little mascara, a little gloss, and some eye liner, never anything powerful, I wouldn't be able to do that anyway even if Mama approved.

Then it was Ange's turn. I put her in her dress filled with pink, ruffles, and bows, perfect for a little princess. That was easy enough, she loved the thing to death, it was her hair that was the complicated part. Pigtails were too casual, but an up-do for her would be painful and irritating. The best I could think of was to braid to sections of the front of her hair and clip them in the back of a half-up half-down hairdo with a white bow matching her dress.

Now it was time for myself. Alex had long since been done with his shower and was dressing himself up on the other side of the curtain. It was mainly drawn up today for the purpose of it seeming like we actually used it. I had taken my dress down from the door and set it on my bed.

I admired it for a moment once again as I removed my robe and unzipped the dress from the long bag it was hiding it. The dress shocked me even more. The fabric was soft and luxurious and the color looked even prettier, if that was even possible. The best thing though was when it was finally on my body. It felt like a waterfall of silk clinging to me. I almost let out a squeal.

I zipped it up to the small of my back before I needed some help.

"Alex, zip up my dress for me, please?" I asked, and he did. It was now that I let out a squeal, turning around to face him. "Do you like it?"

"You look good Max." He complimented. Guess it was back to the short answers again. I could wait until the early hours of the morning for the paragraphs of answers and questions though.

You must be wondering by now why Mama called me Marcie and Marcella, but everyone else seems to be calling me Max. The thing is I don't feel like a Marcella maybe in front of Mama I am but when I am here I am a different person, I am not Marcella here. So on request all my foster siblings, besides Aaron, call me Max.

My joy in the dress had me giddy, yet I pushed through it for assessment. It was finally time to make sure we all looked perfect. Standing in a line from Tallest to shortest I looked at each one of them. Nudge looked stunning in a knee-length ruffled dress in the most alluring color of ocean blue. The men looked dashing dressed up cufflinks and all. Angelina was just damn adorable in her dress and white shoes.

Of course there were a few little touch ups. The zipping of flys (Ian), sticking of flyaway strands of hair (Monique), straightening of ties (Alex), and buttoning that very annoying tip button (Grant, Ian, and Alex).

"Max? What about your hair?" Angel asked.

"Oh that? I'll do it now you guys relax. Don't unbutton that shirt Grant, I know you hate it but you have to live with it."

Moving over to the mirror on the wall I picked up Lucy's hairbrush. It was gold and had the softest bristles around. When I brushed it through my hair I imagined an imaginary beautiful mother of mine gently tugging the heirloom through my hair and whispering sweet compliments to me.

I simply brushed the blonde locks for a few minutes before pushing the hair back. I then twisted it into a complicated bun just on the nape and slightly on the right side of my neck. The look was simple, glamorous, and pretty, complimenting the dress nicely.

It was then that we were ready to go. I though we all looked quite debonair but of course, Mama was the one who ended up outdo us all in the end.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing, favoriting, and following my story. I will try to post again on Saturday to make up for missing last Wednesday's post before returning to my regular schedule. I was busy last week doing run-throughs of my school's play. Thanks for understanding!


	4. Chapter 3

**Title**: Family Portrait

**Summary**: The Batchelder's are the town's model family. They are generous benefactors of the town's schools, the church, and police department, with one son and six foster children. But no one knows the secrets kept inside their large estate. Max and her foster siblings are trapped living with the abusive Batchelder's who have taken their childhoods and innocence. If that isn't hard enough let's not forget their son who believes he has a 'claim' to Max and the desperate attempts to keep her family together. Will the secrets the Batchelder's hide ever come out? Idea is based off of the movie _Family Sins_ and Family Portrait by PINK.

***Warning**: The nature of this story is a Mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!*

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

Chapter Three

Max's Point of View

Mama was the showstopper of course. It must come with the territory of being a paranoid sadist. She would outshine anyone within a fifty mile radius. Her glossy thick dark brown, almost black, hair hung in wavy curtains around her face framing it in the most angelic of ways. Any socialite woman would certainly be jealous. But it was her dress that would shock them all. The dress was a shinning color of golden champagne that clung to her perfect hourglass frame. The dress clung to her frame until it reached her hips where it then skimmed her legs before ending just below the knees. The dress was held up by to straps embellished by gold studs that went around the neck line also.

The final picture was a steaming hot woman who could melt the icecaps. Men would want her, woman would want to be her, and children would admire her. This was her goal and she had gone well beyond it. Who wouldn't be jealous of her? And with such a beautiful outside who could ever imagine her to have such a repulsive inside?

She flitted around the room looking more graceful than a swan. Her golden shoes clacked on the marble floor, making her already long legs look even longer. Mama was not a short woman, in any sense of the word. Now she towered over me looking even more like a supermodel. It made me feel tiny. Her daunting frame sauntered over to me. She looked at me with distaste, something I was used to.

"You look nice." She said. It was curt and didn't really sound like a compliment at all. She looked at me expectantly. I just blinked.

"Well?" Mama asked raising an eyebrow. I blinked again. Not the smartest thing. I just stared at her for another moment. I should know by now, what to say but she has scared my mind into blankness. I sometimes suffered from these momentary moments of blankness maybe it was from one too many smacks to the head.

The next thing I really registered in my mind was my breast being grabbed roughly from behind me. A pointed gasp escaped from my mouth from the sharp pain. I looked back to see Aaron glaring down at me. I positively hated him.

"What do you say when someone compliments you?" He commanded more than asked.

"T-thank you, Mama." I replied shakily. Why was he so strong? He squeezed harder. "You look beautiful Mama."

"Good girl." She simply stated.

He released my breast from his clutches taking her statement as cue to let go. I was so relieved, breathing out an ever thankful mouthful of air. After that I was fortunately ignored, for Mama had moved on to admiring her darling son.

"Oh! Aaron my baby, you look so handsome!" Mama exclaimed. She scuttled over to fawn over him and fix his tie. He tried to push her off of him embarrassed. She only fussed more before kissing his cheek and excusing herself to check on the food.

Tables filled the large hall surrounding a dance floor. The ivory tablecloths adorned circular tables surrounded by multiple chairs. The tables were filled with gaudy center pieces, fine sliver wear, crisp white plates, and black cloth napkins. It was typical, yet extravagant. Expected and yet sudden. It was perfect.

Unknown to me Aaron walked back over. He was built up, where as Ian and Alex were tall and slender, Aaron was large and brawny. It may have something to do with all the meat he likes to eat, or maybe genetics. He had brown hair, not as dark as Mama's, but not as light as Dad's. His eyes were a steely grey color, void of any emotion. His face looked a lot like Dad's, but he had Mama's nose and lips. Also while Dad and Mama's eyes were almond shaped Aaron's were distinctly rounded.

He now stood directly in front of me. I couldn't stand him. I turned around ready to stomp away quickly. He was quicker though. He wrapped his too large hand around my waist holding me in place and pulling me close. I was disgusted.

"Oh, Max, I could take you right here." He purred in my ear. I was gagging silently. "I would just love to ravish you. That dress looks so good on you."

Aaron was behind me his words dripping into my ears in a nauseatingly sensual way. I wish Alex was here. Aaron blew in my ear causing me to shudder in repugnance. Why did I tell them to stay in my room until I came and got them? Being alone with Aaron was torture because I could never tell what would happen.

He trailed kisses up and down my neck before suckling on my earlobe. Once again feelings of nausea and disgust shook my body with great force. I struggled against his grip I seemed to do this a lot.

"You are mine." His harsh murmur in my ear. He turned me around to face him, staring strait into my brown eyes. "Don't forget that." He pushed away and I watched him walk out of the large room and into a hall or foyer or something of the like.

_Six months ago_

It hurt, so much. My back ached and burn with the lashes dealt out at seemingly blinding speeds. One after another I couldn't keep count. Old welts reopened and new patches of skin blistering from the impact of electrical wires. Another, another, another. I was blinded surrounded only by not black but darkness, that cast shadows across my eyes. When would it be over?

It felt like an eternity before it stopped. I did not pass out from the pain. I could no longer receive such heavenly relief. Too many times has this happened before. I have grown some tolerance for it, learned to deal with more pain. After all pain was only a message and messages could be ignored.

I opened my eyes to the blinding single light in the cellar of the house. Unlike the rest of the well up kept house the basement was a mess. Boxes littered the room in random spots, papers were strewn around, and it was dimly lit. A single light bulb held in a socket above the bed where I lay, illuminating the room slightly.

I looked up to see Mama gone and Aaron standing across from me. I sat up with the bloody, rarely cleaned, white sheet covering the top half of my body. I couldn't stomach anything touching my raw back at that very moment.

He stared at me. His inquisitive eyes roaming over my body, a look of, something I couldn't place, something animalistic on his face. It frightened me a bit, though I would never admit it, could never admit it, not to him.

He slowly, irritatingly so, walked over to the small cot, so similar to the one in my room, and sat down. My hair was matted in clumps filled with sweat and dirt, greasy from not being washed for a long time, as was per usual. My forehead was covered with perspiration and my face red. Most of all though I was embarrassed, embarrassed of him seeing me in such a state, only Alex could see me like this.

Aaron pushed the blonde hair back and stroked my cheek, experimenting in a way. Then he repeated the act in a more possessive way. It was then that I recognized that emotion I had seen on him before, it was lust. Something had changed, he had never looked at me in such ways before. I hated how he now looked at me, like I was one of those girls I knew he had on his walls. I didn't want anyone to look at me like that.

He was not what I wanted at that moment. I only wanted Alex, I would only ever want Alex. My Alex, mine! Never anyone else's did I want him to be, just like I never wanted to be anyone's but his. I didn't like the way he was touching me. I only wanted Alex to touch me. Alex, Alex, I want Alex.

I turned my face away from Aaron's. I think he understood that, because I soon felt his presence removed from the bed and I was glad. I didn't want to see him. No one wanted to see the family favorite after being humiliated. I didn't mean to knock over that damned drink, she didn't need to dump one on me. She didn't need to embarrass me in front of everyone. But she could and she did I guess it was just her nature.

Hopefully it wouldn't be much longer before Alex came. He always came and brought me back to our room. It was comforting, natural, something that we both just did for each other. My lips upturned slightly at the thought of his comforting presence, my natural reaction to him. I couldn't wait.

_Present _

Something had changed in that instant. From when Mama disappeared and I realizing that Aaron was there, something had changed, not in my mind, but in Aaron's. He has been touching me in traditions I despise ever since. His very recent assault left me in a numb state. I did not feel, I did not react.

That was how I remained the rest of the night. No matter how Alex coaxed, I was numb. The party was a blur I couldn't seem to have even a vague picture of in my mind. It must have gone well though. Mama was deliriously happy, no one was being lead down the creaking plywood staircase, and I don't even remember what the whole affair was for.

I would always be like that at times, just an unfeeling ghost of an actual person. Just the illusion of perfection and calmness, never the real thing. I could never be the real thing, even if I dared to think of truly trying being real out.

A/N: Sorry it isn't it's usual length and the wait between chapters. I know being busy is a lame excuse but it is true. Hope you can forgive me. School work has been killer and I have been trying to make time to read _Angel_ (no spoilers please!) I will try to increase my normal chapter length after this.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title**: Family Portrait

**Summary**: The Batchelder's are the town's model family. They are generous benefactors of the town's schools, the church, and police department, with one son and six foster children. But no one knows the secrets kept inside their large estate. Max and her foster siblings are trapped living with the abusive Batchelder's who have taken their childhoods and innocence. If that isn't hard enough let's not forget their son who believes he has a 'claim' to Max and the desperate attempts to keep her family together. Will the secrets the Batchelder's hide ever come out?

***Warning**: The nature of this story is a Mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!*****

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

Chapter Three

Alex's Point of View

She was so distracted. No matter what I did it only resulted in one word answers, blank stares, and mumbled apologizes. When I walked in with the rest of our little family she had been like this. She was acting like a brick wall and nothing I had tired worked. That may have been because I'm not exactly an expert with woman, though. Not much chance for experience here in the Batchelder paradise though.

I was hopping Max would open up to me later, that she wouldn't keep it bottled up, it usually only made it worse later- that was a fact. It has happened before, she nearly had a mental breakdown once because she put too much pressure on herself to be the strongest.

These were my musings as I lied awake in bed thinking. It was early morning, no later than seven thirty. The usually warm and comforting spot next to me was empty. The night before Max had opted to stay in her bed, alone, facing the wall, pointedly ignoring me. It was not something I appreciated. I did love her after all. Okay, she didn't really know that I loved her, but she surely could sense it couldn't she?

This isn't about my loving Max though this was about her ignoring me to wallow in her emotions alone. Doesn't she realize she could tell me anything and I would take it to the grave if she asked me to? I hope she knows that even if she didn't open up to me last night. For the last few months she has seemed to be harboring some deep secret that seemed to have been building its self up and eating her up from the inside out.

I turned on my side to look at Max. She was facing the wall fast asleep as far as I could tell. She looked calm, her chest rising and falling with every slow, smooth breath she took. The thin blanket covered her from view. I didn't want to wake her up, she wasn't exactly the happiest person in the morning or the earliest riser on many days, but I knew I would have to soon enough. We had to get downstairs, get ready for the day and make breakfast- or more appropriately have Ian make breakfast and try to assist without ruining it if we were on time.

She would be upset with me if I didn't wake her up soon, but she would punish herself more for not getting up herself if it was that late. I hated when she did that. She tried too hard to appease everyone. She was a saint in hell you could say, trying to protect and help everyone without looking for anything in return except for just the occasional bright and shinning smile.

I looked at the clock again noting that while divulged in the thoughts of my mind it was nearly eight now. Wake up time for the real Batchelders was promptly at eight thirty sharp. We could get up any time before as long as breakfast was on the table and ready to be eaten at nine o' clock. Life was beautiful when you were rich wasn't it? Wake up whenever you want, be envied by all, and live a life of luxury, they had it made.

It was time to wake Max and the children up before it was too late. I slowly unraveled myself from the comforting cocoon of the lumpy cot I was so used to by now. A rush of cold air hit my skin making small goose bumps rise along the normally smooth of my arms and legs. Guess that's what you get for sleeping in boxers and a shirt when it was the middle of winter. I gently shook Max's shoulder.

"Max," I said. She groaned. "C'mon, up and at up champ, it is almost eight o' five. Early bird catches the worm and all that."

She rolled over to face me, eyes shut tightly as if to recapture the bliss of sleep we both recognize was unobtainable once you had been woke up. Max fluttered her chocolate eyes open and sighed as she sat up pushing her hair out of her face. She quickly swung her feet over the edge of the bed and the hair fall into her face once more then shoved my arm. It was a playful little nudge only meant to show me she was up as well as very much alive and kicking.

"I'll have you know I was perfectly awake." She said.

My brief, sarcastic response was a simple 'uh-huh,' as she- clad in shorts and one of my shirts- walked over to the basic dresser. Opening one of the drawers she pulled out a robe tossing it to me and grabbing that golden brush of hers.

"Could you go check on the rest of them up? I'll set clothes out for you." Max asked looking at me. I couldn't deny her. I was hopelessly wrapped around her finger. I nodded showing her I would and she smiled at me.

"Thanks Alex, help Grant and Ange would you? Well if they need any help that is. Um, and send Ian to the kitchen if he isn't already there with Monique." She said tugging the brush through the tangles of her hair and listing off some little reminders for me.

I left the room then walking down our secluded little hallway of the estate. I knocked on Ian and Monique's door before peering in, only to see them both gone and smelling the faint aroma of cinnamon definitely coming from the kitchen. Quickly closing the door I walked over to the last bedroom, opening the door to see our youngest members.

Both were soundly asleep in their separate beds. The blinds were closed casting the room in darkness and the curtain, as all of our most rooms, was not separating them from each others view. Anyone would admit that the two looked adorable. Even me.

I quietly walked over shaking them both awake. Their blonde heads poked out from under the covers, their hair both tousled from numerous hours of sleep. Angelina after rubbing her eyes jumped out of bed and ran over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Grant was still in bed looking slightly dizzy and confused at just being woken up.

I tousled Ange's hair some more as she clung to me chuckling to myself at her affection. She let go of my waist but looked up at me smiling. Looking towards her brother then, she realized he had put himself back under the covers and being a child such as she was, jumped onto the bed shaking him awake. She started to giggle like crazy while her brother groaned, quite loudly might I add. Being a bit paranoid as I was, I did not want there being any chance of waking anyone else in the house up yet if they weren't already. I picked Angelina up of the bed, now carrying her, and pulled the sheets off of Grant.

"We have to get ready." My tone was no non-sense, leaving no room to argue, not that they would, we all knew the consequences.

Grant sighed getting out of bed, and Angelina jumped down from my arms. Both walked over picking out clothes they liked, Angelina picking out something pink with ruffles and Grant picking something with camouflage. I turned around leaving them to their own devices, knowing they would let me know when I was needed.

"Alex? Can you tie this for me? Please?" Angelina said tugging on my hand a minute or two later.

I turned around to face her and she turned away from me showing me her back. On the backside of her shirt hung two pieces of pink cotton just waiting to be tied into a bow. Well it wasn't the best bow in the world but it was good enough. She hugged me after it was done. Grant had managed to get himself ready and Angelina went to slip her shoes on.

"Go to the kitchen when you're done, okay?" I told them. They both nodded their heads.

I went to leave the room bumping into Max in the process. She had managed to get herself ready. The clothes were crisp on her body and her hair was pulled back from her face half up and half down. She looked pretty. I mumbled an apology for bumping into her. She shrugged it off with indifference.

"They ready?" She asked curiously.

"Yeah," I said. "Take them down with you."

"Sure thing," she nodded. "Now you go get yourself ready." Max pushed me towards our room.

When I entered the room I shook my head. She had laid out clothes on my bed, some simple jeans and a shirt that I wore per usual around here. Once I was ready I headed to the kitchen, and just in the nick of time. Just after I had arrived, the last of the three plates were set down on the table, and not ten seconds later _they_ walked in.

We all stood around back by the counters in the large and open kitchen while the family sat around the too big and empty table. Our 'father' Jeb, was seated at the head of the table naturally, on his right was Mama, and across from her was _him_, Aaron. The kid just put a bad feeling in my stomach, making it jerk in every which direction because something about him was off, just like his parents.

All three of them looked around at the feast set in front of them, coffee, tea, toast, eggs, muffins, scones, assorted breads and bagels, fruits, juices, bacon and the other assorted such breakfast meats. This was a commonplace scene at breakfast. The table lined with all too much food for three people to eat that usually went to waste or was saved till the next day.

Though our house was pretty big and the estate was worth millions I was sure, we had no staff. More correctly actually Max, Ian, Monique, Grant, Angelina and I were the forced labor staff and henchman. We were the ones who did the dirty work now. I stared with distaste at Mama, Jeb, and Aaron who stared happily at the food.

Though Jeb sat at the head of the table, typically the master of the house, he was not the one who ran the household. That was Mama's job. It was actually comical in a way. The tough acting guy with a mustache was really only a bitch of a lapdog to the deceivingly sweet looking woman who ran the estate with an iron fist.

"Sit, you've earned it." Mama said. The way she said it was as if it was in passing, something that wasn't interesting or really worth her attention. Guess we were being rewarded for how well last night went no matter what.

We all moved to sit around the table. I sat next to Max. Monique and Ian were across from us, while Angelina was next to Max and Grant was next to Ian. We sat quietly. The air was tense, but then again, wasn't it always tense?

"You may each have a piece of toast, two fruits, and some juice." Guess she was still feeling generous, it was more than we usually ate.

We each eagerly took our rations of food yet we all knew to savor the meal we really didn't know when our next one was. It was sad in a way, that we barely got by sometimes, that we nearly fainted from it. We weren't typically that starved, only when things were going really bad around here, most of the time we were kept decently healthy and feed. We had to appear normal to the rest of the world.

"Alex, Ian, I need to see you two after breakfast." Mama broke the silence in the room looking pointedly at the two of us.

We nodded, responding "Yes Mama," together like the perfect children we needed to appear to be.

"Well I should be off to the lab now, busy day, lots to do." Jeb said, excusing himself from the table.

He walked around to kiss Mama on the cheek and she mumbled a goodbye while Aaron shook his father's hand. The family wasn't very affectionate with each other. Jeb walked around the rest of the table, ruffling Max's hair as he left and patting Angelina's head too. It always irked me when he was touching any of them, making my stomach churn, my blood boil, and my heart beat faster in fear. This time was no exception. His eyes did not hold the adoration for a child or the sweet love for someone you cherished. No in his eyes was something animalistic and disgusting. He looked at them as if something he could eat, it disgusted me to no end.

Where Jeb was secretive- or at least tried to be- with his emotions, Mama half the time didn't attempt at hiding them. She let them rage wildly with no control, unless she wanted to use it to intimidate us. When she was angry she would become livid, when she became sad it was as if she was depressed, and when Mama was in the mood for punishments, you got away faster then a boy running from his great aunt's wet kisses.

We finished our meal in silence. The only sounds the crunch of food between our teeth and the sipping of a drink. It was our kind of normal, regular breakfast. Of course there were some variables but that was everyday in and of its self. You didn't know exactly what to expect or what would happen but you had a vague idea of what could happen.

"Marcella, the list of chores is on the fridge, get started before I leave." Said our resident ring leading crazy person. "I'm going out. Aaron, my darling, good luck at your practice today, I hope you have fun. Now Ian, Alex I need you for a job."

That was our queue to get up. I briefly brushed Max's hand as I got up shooting her a look. We both knew what this meant; another job was another fire, and more money. As if it was needed. Wasn't there a line at some point? Shouldn't there be a time when it became one too many? Maybe it was the first that was really too much.

Mama quickly walked out of the room, knowing full well we were following. Ian and I both knew where we were going full well, the basement. This was where the true evil was. It was just as you would expect an evil monsters basement to be, dark, cold, impersonal, and poorly lit. What most of the family didn't know though was how large it was. Most, like Max, only knew of the front room where a majority of the punishments were held. That room held a cot, many boxes, and various papers. But pull away one fake piece of wall oddly enough away from any boxes in the room and the hidden chambers behind the door were laid before you. There were five other rooms in the crypt. The rooms all eerily similar because all of them had concrete walls and floors that were drastically different from the rest of the fashionably furnished house.

We were headed to the first room behind the door. This is the room where you could say we were briefed for our mission. The next two held a large number of random items, some from houses we burned, some from even I don't know where. Oddly the next room was void of anything except a few wooden shelves and a few various household items. The last door though is what held many a mystery. As far as I knew not a single person in this house besides Mama and Jeb knew what was behind that door. You didn't ask because, did you really want to know the one secret they kept more tightly than any other?

Entering the room we had been in numerous times pervious we sat down in our usual chairs. It was an unsaid thing something just expected. Mama sat behind her desk. Every evil dictator and crime boss needed one now didn't they? She folded her hands pleasantly on the desk as if this were a wholesome meeting about which cookies to bake for the latest charity bake sale.

The irony in that was astounding. This was not a bake sale, and we were never going to bake cookies. Mama smiled a devilish smirk only adding to the disturbing reality of the situation. I looked over at Ian noticing him flipping his strawberry blond hair, a nervous tick of his. I on the other hand was picking at my nails, my own little habit in times of unease.

Mama pulled out a folder from one of the few file cabinets behind her desk. Setting it neatly out in front of her she grinned a Cheshire cat smile as if eagerly in anticipation for this. It was creepy beyond belief sending a chill through my body as she opened the filled file folder.

"This," She said, pulling out a photo "is the Raymond family."

The photo showed a happy looking, frizzy haired brunette standing next to a man with a broad chest and lighter colored hair. In the woman's arms was a strikingly blue eyed boy around the age of four. They looked so happy. It was the picture of a nice, simple, truly normal family. How lucky the boy must be.

"Sarah is a secretary." She mentioned as she pointed to the woman. "Her husband Robert is an under paid teacher. Sadly they haven't been able to afford their rent the past few months and unluckily they are visiting some family in the next state over. As you know I won't allow such a thing. I have given them warnings and extended their payment dates, but they still haven't paid.

"It's quite sad isn't it? They were such nice people too. They went to church and the man treated her right, the little boy was so happy to finally live in a real house. Such a shame, really, but I guess some people just have to learn the hard way."

Well I could tell you one thing, she hardly looked sorry at all. I would be sorry. They did look like nice people. They were so normal and happy too. I guess it's the prospect of the large check that would soon come after tonight that made her feel not a stitch of concern for them. The greedy were never full enough, never satisfied.

Maybe she didn't realize what a house meant to people. It was their home, the place where they felt safe and happy, wanted and cared for by people they loved. I didn't know those feelings but I knew others, many others did. While our house was a stranger at best to me, I could image living in a home where I felt filled with a real, normal life.

"You will go their tonight with one of the cars, one with a large trunk, and do what I know you are both so capable of. Get the thing we can get money for, set the 'accident' up, and get out. I know you won't fail me right?" Mama asked.

"Yes Mama." We both replied wanting to get out of the suffocating basement, that always seemed to make us feel trapped after these talks.

"What good boys you are. Oh how I've raised such good children I shall never know. Come now you have some studying to do and reading to teach the boy, off you go. Appear some time later to see me again later for the keys." She dismissed us with.

I was dreading that time. I didn't want to go back because I didn't want to once again have to turn into a vicious monster working for the greatest evil I knew.


	6. Chapter 5

**Title**: Family Portrait

**Summary**: The Batchelder's are the town's model family. They are generous benefactors of the town's schools, the church, and police department, with one son and six foster children. But no one knows the secrets kept inside their large estate. Max and her foster siblings are trapped living with the abusive Batchelder's who have taken their childhoods and innocence. If that isn't hard enough let's not forget their son who believes he has a 'claim' to Max and the desperate attempts to keep her family together. Will the secrets the Batchelder's hide ever come out?

***Warning**: The nature of this story is a Mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!*****

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

Chapter Five

Max's Point of View

This was a more typical day in the Batchelder's domestic life. The girls were doing housework, the boys were studying, Dad was at the lab he worked at, Mama was up to her usual socialite life, and Aaron wasn't around. That was the way it was here, or at least how it was supposed to be.

Our household has been separated into its own different social classes. Myself, along with Monique and Angelina, are at the bottom of the pyramid. Alex, Ian and Grant are a level above us. Maybe because they were boys and Mama had a better liking towards guys, or she thought they were better then us girls. I will never know the answer to this. Next were Dad and Aaron the nobles of our home. They were the ones with an actual influence- albeit little if ever- over our ever royal majesty, Mama.

The bottom of the pyramid got housework and enough education to appear intelligent enough to hold a conversation, even if we seemed a little clueless and ditzy at times. I mean wouldn't that be the norm of a girl who has to work for nothing? The next layer up got a better education and a, different, kind of work you could say. Then Dad and Aaron the next level up had it made, anything their hearts could desire was theirs as long as they were in Our lady's good graces, which they always were. Last comes the queen herself. She has it even more made than the nobles because she gets anything she wants regardless of anyone's feelings or wishes. She is the almighty power who controls us from where her extravagant throne sits.

This is the class structure we must respect even if it is not written or spoken of. It is quite similar to many things around here. Things that are not said or not put in front of you in black and white, merely expected to be obeyed and valued. Kind of like 'Girl Code' and 'Guy Code', more rules that are just kind of expected for you to acknowledge and know, like never let a friend go to the bathroom alone or Bros before Hoes.

I guess it is good to know what is expected of you, that way you can try to surpass what is expected to make up for when you mess up later. I realize that may be far fetched but why not hope, because would we even still be alive if we didn't have hope?

I really should stop thinking so much when I have work to do. It was almost three now and I barely had anything done. The tablecloths were in the laundry room, which reminds me I need to put the next load into the dryer and the last pile of wine stained cloth in the washing machine, not to mention iron them all, and then fold the bunch from the dryer.

Angelina and Monique were cleaning the bathrooms. The bathrooms were always cleaned the day after a party- I mean who knows what exactly happened in there? So today it was time to scrub pretty much every inch of the marble filled rooms and ever so prestigious porcelain throne.

I was currently in the hall where that fundraiser had been held the night previous. For a bunch of snotty rich people they sure were careless with their drinks and trash. Wrappers, wine basically plastered to the floor, and crushed crumbs were just a few of the things I had to deal with.

I am sure Cinderella never had to accomplish all this. At least she was mildly content in what she had to do and she had a fairy godmother that made her a princess for goodness sakes! I don't have a fairy godmother, or a godmother, I don't even really have a mother that I knew of (not that I would let Mama know I thought that).

Aren't good things supposed to happen to those that are put in unfortunate situations? How long do I have to wait for it to happen too? Will I ever have my happily ever after? My life is enough like a movie for it to be one so why isn't it ending like one? I really don't think I will be able to hold on much longer at this rate.

Once again I have to stop spacing out. Today I am just being super spacey when I need to be super busy. I set down a rag on the bar and decide I should go back to the laundry room and set to finishing the work in there before even attempting to try and clean the floors here without Ange and Monique.

The laundry room, luckily for me, is not to far away from the kitchen which is connected to the hall/ballroom whatever you wanted to call it, I was in now. Walking through the door in the back of room I found my self in the kitchen. Oh, I forgot I had put plates in the dishwasher. I need to place them away in the cabinet, maybe I'll have Monique do it, get more work done faster hopefully.

Leaving the kitchen I walked down the ever and always impersonal hallways to the laundry room. The laundry room was a nicely sized, more than big enough to move in without complaint even with the washer and dryer taking up half a wall. If you were a forced indentured servant, like so many of us good people are, this is the kind of room you could at least appreciate having to work in.

Walking over to the dryer I dumped out the now pristine and sparkling tablecloths and put them in a basket to iron and fold. I then moved over to the washer to move the wet load and set them in the dryer before I set up the final load of tablecloths in the washer. Now with all the appliances in the room once again running as full speed ahead, I set out the ironing board.

It now stood in the middle of the room right next to the basket. I picked out one I had pushed onto the top and draped it over the awaiting board. The ivory tablecloth smelt of lavender. I liked lavender. It smelt fresh and pretty, untainted, pure. Who wouldn't like to smell like lavenders? I was content and just about to plug the iron into the socket when in walks _him_. A man who was not one to be ignored he quickly made his presence known by wrapping his arms around my waist, an action that ended up catching me off guard.

"My, aren't you quite the adorable little housewife?" Aaron said. I nearly shrieked.

Maybe it was true that I looked like a housewife with the apron and sensible shoes. Though I wouldn't go so far as to save adorable, or even kind of cute. I couldn't concentrate on being 'adorable' as I was in an uncomfortable position right now, half bent over with Aaron pressing close against my back his arms all too tight around my not-so-large frame. I hated it. I didn't like him touching me. It sent an all around bad message through my brain.

I pried his hands off of myself enough to stand up forgetting about the iron and leaving it on the floor and unplugged. Aaron then turned me around to face him holding my two hands in one of his. He used his other hand to force my chin up to look at him.

"You're not going to talk to me? Don't be a bad girl Marcella. You already know what Mama does to bad girls. It would be a real shame if you just happened to not get your work done. We don't want _that _to happen now do we?" He said threateningly.

"No. . ." I answered uncertainly. All interactions with Aaron from this moment on I knew needed to be handled with caution.

"That's right, I don't need you to get anymore scars. I don't want to have damaged goods or sloppy leftovers. I deserve better than that don't I?" Asked the highly conceited man forcing me to interact with him. And he wonders why I am not trying to jump his bones.

He looked at me expecting an answer. "Of course we don't want that." I said through bitter lips.

This is why I didn't like Aaron. He was a pushy, arrogant, all around jerk not to mention my heart was already captured by a dark knight who was all my own. But if I refused Aaron what he wanted he could very possibly make my life worse and I don't think I had the time to deal with that, thanks to the accursed social classes that surrounded the house like a secure blanket. Not to mention the fact that I though of Aaron more as a loathed and pushy older brother than a person I had a. . . romantic interest- oh, how repulsive that sounds!- in.

He stepped towards me and I stepped backwards. This pattern between us continued until I ended being pressed against the wall with my hands pinned above my head looking and feeling helpless. His grip was unyielding and dangerous. Both my small hands were clutched in only one of his much too large ones. The way he held them made my wrists hurt.

Fear shot through my body from the tips of my fingers to the bottom of my toes being stuck in between this rock and hard place and what occurred was a wave of unadulterated terror. A milky pool of chocolate eyes looked up only to meet the odd vision of stone cold metal, void of any emotion. Weren't eyes the windows to the soul? Did he just have no soul to his name? Were there no feelings he held within? How could eyes possibly be so cold? So how could I even consider trying to love someone that appeared to have no emotions or soul?

"You're so pretty Marcie," he said. "And such a tease. Playing hard to get is no way to get in my good graces, as fun a game as it is."

"It's not a game." I said struggling in the vice like grip. He always just had do be so domineering.

"I beg to differ, it is the most fun game I've played in quite a long time. Sweet innocent baby sister what a feat it would be to conquer you, just like Dad did that stupid maid."

That sentence caught my attention. My mind was going into over drive. We were never to bring _that_ up. It was taboo here, something that had maybe been forgiven but was pushed to be forgotten. I didn't like to think about it. It was _that_ which caused everything to change so drastically. I couldn't think about that because I have no idea how much happened and what the repercussions were for the maid I dearly loved.

I didn't even realize he mentioned me in that sentence until it was too late. Aaron crushed his lips onto mine, while the hand not keeping me tightly to the wall was running up and down my side. It was repulsive. He was assaulting my lips and body. It was not a kiss we were sharing but an urgently forced crushing of lips.

He wanted to 'conquer' me. It finally dawned on me what he really wanted from me, what he really wanted me to do with him. He wanted to sleep with me, have sex, take away my virginity. Did Mama know about this? Dad? Was it a family decided plan? Was it a punishment? A lesson?

Ideas and scenarios flashed through my mind of Mama planning this out. It was horrible. But as I thought, I denied it. Mama and Dad couldn't know. Mama would never do that to me. She loved me that much. . . didn't she? They both did I knew they must. I was their first daughter they wouldn't do this to me. They couldn't do this to me!

All through my internal battle of warring thoughts and ideas, Aaron was crushing my mouth. He had at one point forced my mouth open without me noticing and was now trying to coax my tongue into a dance. Now that I realized I was hyperaware of it too. I couldn't let this keep going anymore. I had work to finish and I didn't want him to conquer me. I couldn't let him.

I squirmed until he couldn't take it anymore and broke apart from me. I was thankful. He looked at me. Maybe he magically grew a micro-sized heart and would let me go. Leave me be for just a little bit longer. A week, a month, a year, five years, my whole life if I was lucky. His stare was intense as if he was sizing me up or measuring with his eyes. I was not very scared anymore because I saw something in his face change. Something that was hopefully good for me.

"If you wear those tiny housedresses in the back of your drawers or whatever that you never wear for the next two weeks I'll leave you alone until the end of the month," Aaron proposed. My face lit up at the luck. I knew the dresses he was talking about. They were the very fifty's fashioned vintage dresses with cap sleeves I am think might have belonged to Mama. Cute as they were, I looked ended up looking like a pin-up girl instead of a happy housewife.

I was thanking whoever made this wonderful thing happen when he decided to continue after I fervently nodded my head. "Then I'll take you. All of you. This is very nice of me to give you a chance to prepare yourself. Count your blessings."

It was with those words hanging in the air he left. It was a string of luck for me, maybe he had some random boast of pity towards me, but I'd take it. I had a month to find a way to get out of it, a way to avoid the trauma I know would result. I had to tell Alex, maybe just not yet, but soon, I know he'd help me find a loophole.

I had to push whatever just happened out of my mind for now though. Right now I needed to iron some table clothes and move some more laundry. Warily walking back over to the iron I had left discarded on the floor, I bent down to pickup right where I had left off from. I was ready to continue my work, hopefully without anymore distractions.

I actually turned out to finish ironing the set I had previously set up and the ones I had recently put in the dryer before Angelina and Monique came in. It was an easy enough list ahead of us three now. I sent Monique to the kitchen to put away and wash some things and Angelina helped me in the laundry room before we headed off to scrub Cinderella's ballroom.

It wasn't until later that evening that I found out one of the deepest secrets the Batchelders have been hiding that would eventually end up changing everything that I had once believed and lead me on a path to unraveling even more surreptitious information.

**Author's Note**: Thanks again for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and story alerts. I was going to post this last Wednesday, but my computer decided to shut of and delete half of this chapter. I hope it turned out just as good though. What did you think of the last chapter in Alex's Point of View? Did you like it? Hate it? Want to see more from his perspective? What about this chapter? Let me know! Review or message me I can't know if you guys like the story if you don't tell me. Either way I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the story so far.


	7. Chapter 6

***Warning**: The nature of this story is a mature subject matter. Please be aware of this!*****

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Maximum Ride. _That is a right that belongs to James Patterson.

**Chapter Six**

**Max's Point Of View**

Even with a nagging fear in the back of my mind I managed to finish everything. It was surprising because that voice inside your head can get quite annoying after a while. I mean isn't only natural to feel a little fear when you have a set date for your very own rape by the resident pervert? But I can not allow myself to think of that right now.

Right now I needed to concentrate. I needed to concentrate on what Mama wanted to talk to me about. What it was about I had no idea. Mama was an enigma. She was like that one hard problem you are so close to solving but can never complete. So you struggle and restart it over and over again till you are closer and closer but the answer is still just out of sight.

Once again I was sitting in that room of hers, the innocent scene of dismay, on the loveseat again. This time I was alone though. Mama was in the bathroom, brushing her hair or something of that nature, prettying herself up maybe for nothing but to sit at home. She always liked to feel or at least look pretty.

I hate that bathroom. It was a place of a memory I would not like to relive, for the feeling of drowning is not a pleasant one. Gasping and choking for air that you know is not there. Feeling so near to death that you could swear you see a faint light and faces you think you remember but can't be sure because they seem so far away like they are in a time past. Then you just can't fight anymore and you just stop thrashing and trying to find that spider thread thin line keeping you connected to the world. That is when it stops and you are not aware of anything until you wake up on the cold floor in sopping wet clothes, who knows how much later.

Like I said I hated that bathroom. Mama didn't seem to notice though so why bring it up? She could only use it against me if she did. I wouldn't allow her that power. It was only a moment later after fidgeting with my hands in my lap that she came out.

She didn't speak, only walked over with a minute smile tugging on her perfectly plump lips. She took her time not in any rush or maybe she just liked the suspense it added to the situation. She claimed that she wanted to show me something, but I couldn't be sure what- if anything- it was.

"Marcie you've been good but I don't know if I can trust you enough just yet. You need to prove your love for this family. I know you can be such a good girl but who knows if you can keep a secret."

Mama had my interest peaked. She was dangling a treat in front of my face waiting for me to jump at it. There are many skeletons hiding in the closets here and she wanted to reveal one to me. I had to know what it was. The curiosity was burning inside me.

"You can trust me Mama." I said. Eagar to please, she liked that.

"Like I said such a good girl, but I still don't know if I can trust you with such a big secret." She said. It was teasingly said, almost as if she just wanted to get a rise out of me. She wanted to test my patience, and I did not want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much I _needed _to know.

"What do you want form me to earn your trust?" I asked evenly, hoping it wasn't a contract signed with blood. Blood was nauseating when it poured out of you too many times to count.

She looked at me with a satisfied smirk on her face. She knew I wanted to know. She knew everything. Mama was right. She always had to be right. It was her way or the highway- or more accurately the basement.

"Don't try to play games with me Marcella, because you'll only lose." She said with complete distain for me. "Don't think you can outsmart me either, because I'll never let you escape. You'll be under my influence until the very day you die."

I was pushed into silence again. I knew she would tell me what she wanted. It was obviously something, a task to perform or maybe a trick for her friends.

"You're going to go tonight with Alex and Ian. It is far past time you learned your dirty work." She said and I was surprised. She wanted me to . . . oh no! God I couldn't do that. I couldn't do that, couldn't be that. She knew that too. She knew that I would never be the same if I did that. She wanted me different she wanted me scared, fear instilled in every free corner of my mind. Oppression; that was her way to control us.

There was no way to get out of it I could see it in her cold, glaring eyes staring at me. They were unforgiving as they looked at me as if I had already did something wrong, and I could think of nothing that I had done in the recent past to have her mad. Was she punishing me for the future then maybe?

"Yes Mama." I said my head down as I stood up to walk out of the room. Of course I couldn't go that easily though.

I was gripped firmly by the arm and made to look her straight in the eye as she said "You will not screw up. If you fail me you're not coming out of your room for three days."

She was completely serious just as I had expected her warning to be. I had no doubts that she would lock me away for a few days if I screwed her flawless plans up. And after all why wouldn't she? Mama had that power and she knew how to exert it.

"Oh and find some time to cut Alex's hair. It's too long and makes him look like some kind of street rat and you know I don't raise street rats."

"Yes Mama." I said and she was finally satisfied.

Thanking every deity known to man, woman, and dolphin I left that innocently evil lair. I could regularly debate whether I believed in God or an afterlife or whatever. I wasn't exactly sure what I believed and didn't believe. It was just all so confusing. Follow certain rules and you are guaranteed a good life after death even if you were completely miserable and begged for help in actual life. But I followed the rules best I could anyway just incase.

It was a shame if there was no afterlife because how long can you really suffer before you crack. I think I might trade that wonderful happiness of an afterlife to taste a Big Mac, or a milkshake, I heard they are heavenly. I wonder what they taste like sometimes, why people seem to like them so much, why I can't have them.

This brings me back to the whole religion thing. If I had a past life what the heck (I just can't bring myself to use any curse words, I was raised in the church after all and had values instilled in me) did I do? Apparently some very awful things. Maybe I was a serial killer, or a rapist, or a shark that ate all too many fish or humans. All plausible things to land me here. That makes me think what Mama will be like in another life, if there is one that is.

Maybe God has something better in store. There must be more out there for me. Why else would I be subjected to this unless I was going live in bliss eventually? Ah, the always present mysteries of life. Keeping you up night and your brain yearning for the answers that you won't know for a long time if ever.

I had to see Alex. Tell Alex. I needed to get everything off my chest and out in the open- to him at least. If I could be certain of anything it was him. Anything about Alex I had confidence in. Rain or shine he was there, kind of like the mailman, someone dependable, though I don't think Alex would appreciate being compared to a mailman. A mailman probably wouldn't stay awake with you at night until you could breathe easy or have a big enough heart to be a father figure, a brother, and something similar to a boyfriend all at once.

As the seconds ticked by I was becoming more and more desperate to see him and lift my burden or at least share it with someone. I know it was a selfish thing to do but I couldn't help it. I was dependant on him and I think he was dependant on me too at least a little bit.

I ran down the hallways my feet pounding on the floors making a noise I could hardly hear over my racing heart beat. Tonight I was going to sin and destroy someone's livelihood. That place in my body that ached when bad things happened and when something sad ensued made me feel like I had a gapping hole in my body was ready to burst out of my body at any second.

I ripped open the door and flung myself into Alex sitting on his bed. I just needed to feel him and smell his homey scented self, books digging into my body at odd places aside, it made me feel a bunch better than I just had.

I looked up at him. "We need to talk, something is happening."

He glanced back at me slightly worried. "Last time you said something was happening you got your period and that wasn't the most pleasurable thing to deal with."

Okay so that wasn't the greatest moment in my life when I had no idea why I was continuously bleeding and in pain. And yes I had come to Alex when that happened because he was my go to person, not Mama, not Aaron, not even Monique- who was like my sister.

"You'll never let the fact that I had no idea what was happening go will you?" I glared pointedly at him. Before he could retort I cut him off. "Alex this is a lot bigger than that. Mama wants me to come with you tonight on your, you know . . . job."

"She wants you to come with us?" he looked caught off guard and not happy at all. "What the hell good would that do Max? You can't handle it. Look at you, you're scared to death and you don't even know about all of it."

"Mama needs to know that she can trust me." I answered simply.

"You do her housework for her everyday and she knows that you're scared of her for a fact Max, a fact!" He was getting worked up and it wasn't going to turn out good if he didn't calm down soon.

"She knows we are all scared of her Alex, but she wants to tell me something, something about this place, one of its secrets. She wants to trust me, isn't that good?"

"Why do you still want their affection and love Max? They are horrible people, they do horrible things to us just look at your back, or mine or any of our backs. You have to see that this isn't healthy and that we can't live like this our whole lives. We can't live in fear of them."

"I don't want their love or their affection." The glare has now returned to my face. "I figured if Mama told me something it could help me. Aaron is becoming more physical, again, and I know he wouldn't stop again. Alex we just have to do this okay? I- I'll get over it, I know I will."

"What do you mean he is getting physical again Max? Has he been touching you? I'll beat the shit out him Max I swear if he tries to touch you again just say the word and he'll be on the floor." Alex growled out.

"Look at me, Alex, okay? You need to calm down." I said sitting up and grabbing hold of his shoulders. Looking straight into his eyes I told him "Just breathe, slowly, breathe for me. And don't use language you know I don't like it. You have to understand that we can't do anything about him, he has power over us we just have to keep him happy and we'll be fine. Everything will be fine."

I wanted to tell him all of what Aaron wanted to do but I couldn't right now. I knew he was only so defensive because he cared, for me of all people. I knew he would help me, tonight, tomorrow, anytime. I would do the same for him; I know I would if I had to.

Maybe I should tell him after all. The pressure I felt on my chest from what Mama wanted had lifted a significant amount, but the weight Aaron had set was screaming at me. If I told Alex he'd think of a way to help me. He was crafty like that and always thinking ahead, when he wasn't all worked up at least.

"Well let's think about all this." I tell him. "There is no way of me getting out of coming tonight, and that is okay, we both knew I would have to learn someday. But maybe we are making it out to be worse than it is."

"Max it isn't pleasant. You walk into some person's home take out all their valuable items like TVs and computers, and set the house on fire for God's sake! It isn't sunshine and rainbows. We break in, steal, destroy the evidence, and run. All so Mama can collect the insurance money. Where do you think half of this cash they're loaded with comes from?"

"It sucks I get it alright? I am strong though I can handle it, I can handle anything." Pride swells up in my chest and I sit up straighter.

"That is bullshit Max and you know it. You can't handle everything."

"What did I say about language?"

"You're missing the point! I understand that you are strong and determined and you are Max, you are, but even the strongest person can't handle everything on their own." He knows me too well; it isn't fair. I know I can't handle everything on my own it is impossible.

"Alex, I know that. I depend on you way too much already. But isn't it a good thing that I come and tell you everything and not someone else? It means I trust you with everything, my heart, my life anything in this world I could trust you with."

"You can depend on me all you want and I'll never complain. It's nice to hear that you think so highly of me."

"Don't get a big head buddy. I'm about to knock us both down a few pegs." I say looking down at my hands playing with the hem of my shirt.

"Is it about Aaron Max?" He asked as if reading my mind.

"Yeah, he . . . well I don't exactly know how to explain it but, um, he wants to have . . . _sex_." The last word came out whispered under my breath.

"He wants to _what_?" he screamed, and I was sure his screech had scared a few birds away.

**Author's Note: So I went on a bit of a hiatus. Blame my old computer that just had to break. Don't worry though I went on a bit of a writing spree and have the next two chapters done also, so at least the next few weeks will be on time. I went to edit this after watching three minutes of Nyan Cat (worst idea ever by the way) never do anything right after watching that video. Exteremly sorry for being gone for so long but if you are still reading this story thank you! **


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